


Kind of Unexpected

by tiniestawoo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beaches, Brazil, F/M, First Meetings, Heart-to-Heart, Kissing, Meet-Cute, Queerplatonic Relationships, Vacation, its not quite platonic either?, just so much gratuitous kissing, mention of past Jydia, non-romantic interaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniestawoo/pseuds/tiniestawoo
Summary: “Oh, you’ve heard of me. Great.” Jackson brushed the rubble off of his shirt and face. “I’m a former Kanima. Don’t worry, I’m in control.”The wolf cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re from Beacon Hills,” she said, her mouth splitting into a grin. “You were the homicidal lizard that Lydia dated. Got it.”Jackson’s brows drew together. “Who are you? How do you know about Beacon Hills and Lydia?”The other werewolf let out a low chuckle. “I’m from Beacon Hills too. My name is Cora Hale.”--Or the one where somehow, Jackson is the most content he's been in years on a sand dune in Brazil next to Cora Hale of all people.
Relationships: Cora Hale/Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	Kind of Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to version II of the Jackson-goes-on-vacation concept!! Jackson Rarepair Week entry for favorite Opposite gender ship!!
> 
> Translations are available in hover-over pop ups, or at the end. There's a lot less of them than in yesterday's fic.
> 
> Thanks to Jess/clotpolesonly for the beta, and Nath/limonath for helping me with accurate translations to Brazilian Portuguese!

When Oliver had mentioned going to Brazil for Spring break, Jackson had naturally jumped on the opportunity. What he had been expecting was a cushy flight into Rio, a shuttle to a beachfront hotel, and seven days of paradise with the absolute minimum interaction with other supernatural creatures.

What he got instead was a 12-hour plane ride to São Paulo, a 3.5-hour flight to Cruz, and then a 30 minute shuttle ride to the tiny town of Jericoacoara, which he’d neve heard of. And, because Jackson’s life was the clusterfuck it had become, he’d stepped off of the shuttle only to become immediately aware of several werewolves in the vicinity.

But that wasn’t even the strangest part. The strangest part was that underneath the smell of sand and salt, underneath the pungent odor of the werewolves that watched his every move, there was something...familiar. 

There was an earthy, musky scent that Jackson had come to associate with the Hale house. His wolf perked up immediately at the familiar aroma. Last Jackson had heard, it had been months since anyone had made contact with Derek. Was it possible that, by accident and to some degree against his will, Jackson had found him in a tiny beach town in Brazil? It seemed unlikely. 

Passing off his suitcase to a disgruntled Oliver and promising to find him later, he headed in the direction of the scent, passing through rows of brightly colored, foliage-accented buildings. He ignored the stares of the wolves he passed, careful to keep his eyes perfectly human; it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the only thing a wolf pack hated more than an outsider was an outsider with blue eyes. 

(Jackson shuddered to think of what might happen to him were they to become aware of his previous form.)

As he got closer, the scorched earth musk scent morphed into something...softer than he’d known it to be. It was underlaid with the salty air and sweat, something citrus and sweet rising to the fore. As it changed, Jackson’s interest waned. Maybe it wasn’t Derek.    
  
There was no guarantee that Derek would have wanted to see him anyway.

Coming to a stop Jackson reached up to rub his tired eyes with one hand. Searching for this scent right away had been a mistake. He should have gone to the hotel for a shower and a nap first. 

As he turned to head in the direction of Oliver and the others, he heard motion behind him only moments before he was thrown bodily around the corner into an alley, his chest (and face) colliding with a rough stone wall. One slender hand gripped the back of his neck, claws pricking his skin, and the other rested on the small of his back, claws also extended dangerously close to his spine. 

“What are you looking for, outsider?” a voice said into his ear in – surprisingly – English. What surprised Jackson further was that it wasn’t just English, but unaccented American English, which he heard so rarely these days.

To make the uncomfortable situation more uncomfortable, the person who had him effortlessly pinned to a wall also seemed to be the source of the scent he’d been tracking. “I was following a scent. I’m just here on vacation. I don’t mean harm and I’m leaving in a week.”

“What’s your name?” the voice asked gruffly. “What pack are you from?”

Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. “My name is Jackson Whittemore. I’m a part of the Colgate pack in London.” 

The hands released him suddenly and he turned to face the person who had restrained him. He was surprised to find a petite wolf with long, sunkissed dark hair, warm brown eyes, tanned skin and a very unimpressed set of eyebrows. “The Kanima,” the werewolf said. Her eyes raked from head to toe. When they returned to his face, Jackson smirked.

“Oh, you’ve heard of me. Great.” Jackson brushed the rubble off of his shirt and face. “I’m a  _ former  _ Kanima. Don’t worry, I’m in control.”

The wolf cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re from Beacon Hills,” she said, her mouth splitting into a grin. “You were the homicidal lizard that Lydia dated. Got it.”

Jackson’s brows drew together. “Who are you? How do you know about Beacon Hills and Lydia?” 

The other werewolf let out a low chuckle. “I’m from Beacon Hills too. My name is Cora Hale.” 

\--

Jackson followed Cora past a small group of wolves that watched on with focused, concerned eyes.

One of them stopped her with a broad palm on her shoulder. “Você está bem, irmãzinha?” 

Jackson watched as Cora gave a small smile and nodded. “Está tudo bem. Ele é da minha cidade natal, eu vou manter ele na linha. Você pode dizer a Alfa que ele não vai ser um problema.”

She led him through a small cluster of buildings and into one of them, holding the door for him and motioning him in with her head. 

Jackson glanced around the sparsely decorated living room. The walls were mostly bare aside from a clock and some brightly colored art. The couch was a dull grey color and it was saturated with Cora’s scent and the scent of others. He bent to pick up a picture frame from the table next to the couch. A much younger Derek, Cora, and a third dark haired sibling (Laura, probably) stared back at him.

“Uncle Peter gave me that,” Cora said evenly. “I guess he had it stashed away somewhere. Doesn’t bring my sister back, but it’s something.”

Jackson set the frame back down and turned to look at her. She leaned against the doorway to the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest. “Did you hear about Mexico?” he asked conversationally.

“You mean, did I hear about my brother's  _ evolution? _ ” Cora snorted. “Yeah, I heard about it. He came for a visit after, with Braeden.”

“I never met Braeden,” Jackson said, dropping onto the arm of the couch to study Cora. “Everything I’ve heard has been from Lydia, or sometimes Danny, when he works things out.”

“Danny was the one dating the gay twin, right?” 

Jackson laughed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, that’s what he got for dating without asking for my advice.” 

“Hard to ask for your advice when you’re halfway around the world,” Cora said, teasing at her bottom lip with her tongue. “A lot happened right after you left.”

Jackson nodded. “I died. On a lacrosse field, in front of a very large crowd, and then came back to life hours later. That’s not something you can explain away that easily. Oh, and that was after I terrorized the town as a … what did you say Lydia called me? A homicidal lizard?” 

Cora scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Relax, you don’t have to justify leaving to me. I went back to Beacon Hills to find the new Hale Alpha, found  _ my brother _ and got locked in a vault with two of the best people I’ve ever met. They didn’t make it.” Jackson saw Cora’s lip quiver. “Beacon Hills turns people into monsters. It’s probably for the best you got out.”

Jackson swallowed hard at her words and turned to glance out the window. “So, am I gonna need your escort for the next week?”

“That depends on why you’re in Brazil,” Cora answered, pushing off from the wall and dropping onto the corner of the couch opposite Jackson. “Are you here on pack business or personal?”

“I’m literally here with my human friend. This place came up on a google search for the best beaches in south America, and we had a break from school.” Jackson turned to face her. “I caught your scent, thought you might be your brother, and here we are.”

Cora frowned slightly but nodded. “Okay.” She stood up and motioned for the door. “C’mon, I’ll take you to your hotel. Do me a favor, okay? Don’t go wandering after scents again. Just go hang out on the beach like a good tourist.”

Jackson shrugged. “Whatever you say, boss.”

Cora smirked. “Oh, I’m not the boss. I’m what we send after pain in the ass tourists like you.” One of her hands morphed casually into claws. “You recognized me as some kind of threat. Most werewolves who come into this territory don’t, and they usually regret it.”

Jackson was simultaneously afraid and horny, and it was clear from the amused look on Cora’s face that she could tell. She stepped up to him and patted his cheek with the clawed hand before ushering him out of the home and back onto the street.

\--

The next two days were the kind of quiet that Jackson longed for and hated. Oliver, the quintessential rich boarding school boy that Jackson had begrudgingly befriended, was more than content to flirt with the locals, drink to excess, and end every night with a different partner. 

Once upon a time, Jackson would have done the same. Once, he’d tried to hide from the anguish of what he’d done in any body that dared enter his orbit. Eventually, they blurred together. The pain lingered, memories persisted, and after one-too-many times being woken by his bed partner from a nightmare he didn’t dare explain had been real once, he’d stopped inviting them to stay.

So, instead of flirting and drinking useless booze, Jackson found himself spending the evenings walking along the water, the salty sea lapping at his ankles and sand smashing beneath his toes. He stared out over the water, breathed in the sea air, and tried to exhale everything the Kanima had made him into. 

It turned out no amount of pacing along the beach freed him from those sins either. 

The next morning, he woke to a knock on his hotel room door and frowned into his pillow. Sure it was Oliver, he climbed to his feet with an annoyed grunt, not bothering to don more than the briefs he’d slept in before throwing open the door. Cora Hale stood on the other side of it. Her face was carefully blank, but amusement danced in her eyes. 

“Good Morning,” she said, stepping past Jackson into the hotel room. 

Jackson pushed the door shut. “Make yourself at home.” He yawned, resting back against the wood. “I have literally followed all of the rules you’ve given me, so why are you here? I don’t fly out for another four days.”

“I know.” Cora, dressed in a pair of leggings, sneakers, and a loose cropped shirt, dropped on the bed, folding her hands in her lap. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” 

Jackson shrugged. “That was not even close to the first time I’ve been thrown face first into something. It’s your brother’s specialty, really.” 

Cora laughed suddenly, and Jackson couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the unexpected sound. “Sorry, that just… is not the Derek I used to know.” She licked her lips and met Jackson’s eyes. “Let me show you some of the sights. We can... talk.”

“Hales know how to do that?” Jackson teased, crossing the room to dig through his suitcase for a new pair of shorts and a T-shirt of his own. With his back turned to the other ‘wolf, he slid out of the underwear he’d slept in and into a new pair, pulling the rest of his clothes before turning around. Though her face was expressionless when he turned around, there was a sweet edge to Cora’s scent. He smirked as he dropped onto the bed next to her to put on his shoes.

“We’re not all as emotionally damaged as my brother,” Cora said finally, pushing up from the corner of the bed. “C’mon. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

\--

By the time the sun had started to set, Jackson was thoroughly sunburned. (“ _ I didn’t even know werewolves could get sunburned! _ ”  _ he’d exclaimed to a laughing Cora _ .) Cora pushed a punishing pace, indicative of a life outside the rules of humanity. If Jackson’s supernaturally enhanced legs were screaming at him, he’d hate to have spent that day as a human. 

A lot of Jericocoara was … sand and rocks. Literal ground they had to cover. It was a protected part of Brazil, a sanctuary guarded by its keepers. Cora spent the day reciting its history to Jackson and it was nice, for once, to listen to someone else fill the silence.

That night, as the sun began to set, Cora and Jackson found themselves on Duna do Pôr do Sol, the sunset dune. Cora was on her back on the sand, staring out over the ocean at the brilliant orange sunset. 

Jackson sat with his legs crossed, listening idly to the people around them speak in languages he didn’t understand, and watching the rise and fall of Cora’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?”

“That  _ was  _ a question.” 

Jackson glanced at the sky and shook his head. “How did you survive the fire?” 

Cora was silent for a long moment. “I wasn’t in the fire,” she finally said. “I’d run outside because I was mad at mom and dad. They were making me wait for Derek and Laura to get home before we had dessert.” She paused, and Jackson watched the bobbing of her throat as she swallowed down what he expected was more emotions than anything. “When you’re eleven, you don’t think about the fact that any moment could be your last. The last thing I said to my mother was that I hated her. Over a stupid dessert.” 

Jackson laid back against the sand, tilting his head towards Cora and holding out his arms. She hesitated for a moment before rolling onto her side and resting her head on Jackson’s chest. He dropped his arms around her, rubbing in slow circles at the small of her back. 

“I’m adopted,” he said softly. “When I was the Kanima, Stiles and Scott kidnapped me for my own good, to try and keep me from killing people. I didn’t know what was happening back then, but the reason that my parents knew I’d been kidnapped was because Stiles sent a text from my phone that ended with ‘I love you.’” Jackson nuzzled against the top of Cora’s hair, taking in the musky earthy scent, edged with citrus. “They’ve given me everything and I still can’t bring myself to tell them I love them.” 

Cora rubbed her face gently against Jackson’s chest and sighed. She made no effort to move, and Jackson’s wolf was more than content to have someone close. This kind of contact, just...intimacy without expectation...it was rare, but it soothed something inside Jackson that longed for the pack he’d left behind. 

Cora glanced up at Jackson through thick, dark eyelashes, and he stared back at her. “You’re remarkably well adjusted for a former kanima,” she smiled as she spoke.

Jackson pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows. “Therapy,” he said after a moment of studying the curve of her cheek and the pink of her lips in the setting sun. “There are a few supernatural therapists out there. I could get you a referral.” 

Cora laughed again, the same sweet unexpected sound from this morning. Jackson gave in to the urge then, and tilted his head down to capture the sound with his own mouth. Cora didn’t hesitate to respond, shifting in his grasp so her elbows were on either side of his head, her brown eyes closed.

If you’d told him that this vacation – impromptu and poorly planned – was going to end with making out with Derek Hale’s younger sister on a sand dune at sunset, Jackson would have laughed. Despite that he lay there with Cora in his arms, enjoying the kind of playful, exploratory kiss he didn’t have much anymore. Instead of the fear-and-guilt-and-anxiety that usually made up his day-to-day existence, he was surprisingly content.

She pulled away after a moment, and Jackson watched as her tongue traced her lips before her teeth captured the bottom one. “That was...unexpected.” She still hovered over Jackson, and Jackson’s hands were still latched together at her lower back. 

“Good unexpected, or the kind of unexpected where I’m about to get my ass kicked?” Jackson smirked. 

“God, you really are insufferable.” Cora’s tone didn’t match the words that fell from her lips as she leaned down to press another soft kiss to Jackson’s. “Good unexpected.” She rubbed their cheeks together in a decidedly canine show of affection. “I think somehow my wolf knows you’re some kind of pack. I feel…”

“Content?” Jackson finished, bringing one hand up to tuck a lock of Cora’s hair back behind her ear. “I’m glad it’s not just me.”

Cora nodded. “This is such a bad idea.” She smiled again as she said it, eyes sparkling in the dying sunlight. 

“The worst idea.” Jackson winked and surged up to kiss her again.

\--

The next three days were a haze of Cora’s stories, kissing beside every landmark in Jericoacoara, and decidedly innocent nights spent curled up together in Jackson’s hotel room. It wasn’t romance, but it wasn’t friendship either. It was something more and something less and neither of them  _ cared _ to explore any further than the strange sense of contentedness that they both experienced in the company of the other. 

The day Jackson packed up to leave, Cora walked with him to the shuttle station, uncharactaristically silent. Oliver gave Jackson a side-eye that meant he knew he’d be badgered for the next 16 hours about Cora’s identity. He disappeared onto the shuttle ahead of Jackson, giving him one last moment with her before they left. 

Cora studied him from behind sunglasses, arms crossed over her chest. “Thanks for this week.”

Jackson curled one of his arms around her shoulders and tugged her forward, her face instinctually falling into the curve of her neck as he pressed a kiss against her temple. “If you ever decide to live somewhere a little less remote, let me know.” 

Cora laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She peeled her face away from Jackson’s neck to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “Y’know, I hear there’s a new alpha in Beacon Hills. This one seems to almost have his shit together. Last I heard, Derek was finishing up some business and then heading back there.” 

Jackson smirked. “What are you saying, Hale?” 

Cora shrugged one shoulder. “Just thought I’d let you know.” She motioned over Jackson’s shoulder with her chin. “You’d better go.” 

Jackson nodded, kissed her cheek, and turned to board the shuttle. 

He dropped into the seat next to Oliver only for the Englishman to whistle softly. “Jeez, mate. I thought  _ I _ found hot locals to hook up with. Yours takes the cake.”

“She’s not mine. And we didn’t hook up,” Jackson said, resting back against the seat. “And she’s not really a local..”

“What is she, then?” Oliver asked.

Jackson frowned, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “She’s a Hale.” 

Oliver glanced out the window with an annoyed scoff. “Whatever that means, I guess.”

\--

{5 years later} 

The venue was decorated impeccably, as any Lydia Martin event venue had to be. The fairy lights that lined the patio twinkled almost to the beat of the music, and the stars shone bright overhead. Jackson leaned against the railing, breathing in cool night air and trying to remember how he’d ended up at Scott and Malia’s wedding anyway. 

( _ “I need a date, Jackson. Stiles is going with Derek, and I won’t show up alone.” Lydia insisted over the phone. “I planned the wedding. You don’t have to talk to anyone, just show up and look pretty.”  _ )

Motion behind him caught his attention, and he managed to react in time to sidestep the person throwing themself at his back. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and his face broke into a smile as Cora caught herself gracefully on the railing. 

“Your reflexes are better these days,” she said, smiling brightly.

“I wasn’t nearly as distracted this time.” He turned to face her, resting his hip against the wood. “I know how I ended up here, but what are you doing here? I know Derek had a date.”

Cora mirrored his position, the gold shimmer of her dress reflecting the fairy lights around them. “I guess nobody told you that Malia is Peter’s daughter.” 

Jackson blinked a few times. Several events of the evening made more sense now. “No, nobody did.” He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “Still living in Brazil?”

“Nope.” Cora’s lips parted on the ‘p’ at the end and stayed apart, the full force of her gaze on him. “Still living in England?” 

“No,” Jackson said. “No, I was finally convinced to come home.” 

Cora laughed quietly. “I’m beginning to feel like I might have been set up,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder back inside the venue. Jackson followed her gaze to find Lydia, who smirked knowingly at him. 

Jackson mouthed ‘Thank you’ at Lydia and stepped close enough to Cora to feel her body heat through his suit. “I think we might have been.” Hesitatingly, he brought one hand to her arm. It had been five years and they’d hardly spoken. The sunset kisses and midnight conversations felt more like dreams than reality most of the time.

As soon as he made contact with her skin the overwhelming sense of contentment was back. Cora returned her gaze to him, her lips curved upward. “I think I’m okay with the setup,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> translations:
> 
> Você está bem, irmãzinha? - Are you okay, little sister?  
> “Está tudo bem. Ele é da minha cidade natal, eu vou manter ele na linha. Você pode dizer a Alfa que ele não vai ser um problema.” - It’s okay. He’s from my hometown. I’ll keep him in line. You can tell Alpha that he won’t be a problem.
> 
> Come see me on [Tumblr!](https://tiniestawoo.tumblr.com)


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